


your lips (taste like sangria)

by hlundqvists



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blowjobs, M/M, New York Rangers, Underage Drinking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6845041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Marc tastes like a mixture of peaches and the ocean and sunscreen. Cam can’t get enough of it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	your lips (taste like sangria)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifonlynotnever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifonlynotnever/gifts).



> this is a short, sweet little something for ras' birthday!! 
> 
> it's based in an au world of our own making where marc and cam have been dorming with each other in college since freshmen year and are overly dependent best friends and there's a lot to their relationship that i don't have the time or space to explain, but this is sort of a little tidbit of an idea we have of how they helped each other figure out who they are as people and their wants/needs/etc. 
> 
> this entire fic was inspired by and grew in my head thanks to blake shelton and his song, "sangria", which is where the title for this fic came from. if listening to songs during fics is your thing, then go right ahead and [listen to it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KoQrH6EMnas) while you read this!
> 
> thank you to lauren, as always, for looking this over for me!
> 
> ras, i hope you like this!!! happy birthday, bae!!!!!!

It’s spring break and they’ve only managed to pool enough money between themselves to be able to afford a four day trip down to Florida. They’re nineteen, and frankly, they don’t care _where_ they go as long as there’s a beach and they can find access to drinks. 

Cam’s always looked older than his actual age, and it’s easy for him to convince the bartender at the hotel bar to let him buy something without showing any ID. Neither of them are picky about what they drink, so Cam winds up getting a pitcher of sangria for them to share at the back of the bar.

It tastes sweet on their tongues, a mixture of peaches and citrus. It’s sweet and cool, a pleasant contrast to the heat of the Florida air they had spent all day lounging in by the beach. Cam has hints of sunburn on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears, where Marc just looks more freckled than usual; the spots seeming to have spread over his arms.

Cam feels a bubbling happiness inside his chest as he sips his drink and grins at Marc. For the first time, it feels like he’s looking at Marc without questioning the love in his heart. Marc’s eyes are bright, shining with matching happiness and relaxation and simple joy. His freckles look bright, too, his cheeks red from the mixture of alcohol and exposure to the sun all day. He’s laughing, too, eyes crinkling at the corners and lips turned up at the corners in a bright smile. He’s laughing at nothing or maybe he’s laughing at something Cam said. 

Cam doesn’t remember. He’s too caught up in the sound of the laugh; caught up in the sound of it and sudden overwhelming desire to taste it on Marc’s lips.

So he does.

He leans in, one hand reaching out to cover Marc’s, and kisses him lightly.

It’s pretty much the best first kiss Cam has ever had in his life with someone.

Marc responds after a moment’s pause, kissing Cam back, sweet and slow, and Cam can feel Marc’s smile grow.

“Mm, peach sangria,” Marc murmurs against his lips.

Cam laughs and kisses him again. He’s buzzed, tingling all over, and it feels _good_ to finally be taking action towards the untouched _something_ between himself and Marc that they’ve been ignoring since day one of knowing each other.

Softly, between one kiss and another, Cam asks, “Wanna go to the room?”

Marc’s smile falters a little, then. Hesitancy takes over, worry and maybe fear flicking in his expression for a half second, but before Cam can comment or ask, he gives a small nod.

“Yeah, okay.”

Cam squeezes Marc’s hand and leads the way.

\--------

They fall into bed together easily. It’s something they’ve done countless times before, minus the kissing. They’ve spent nights cuddled together on the same small dorm bed after difficult tests or a bad day or simply because they wanted to be held. It’s not anything new to them. They’ve shared a bed before, they’ve been this closely pressed together before. They’ve just never closed that final gap, that last distance between themselves; never curled a hand against the other’s neck to steady themselves for a kiss.

Marc tastes like a mixture of peaches and the ocean and sunscreen. Cam can’t get enough of it. He loves the way Marc responds to his kisses, the little sighs and whines that Marc lets out as Cam bites at his bottom lip and draws him closer.

They kiss for what feels like hours. For all they know, it might as well be. Cam’s lips are tingling, buzzing, and Marc keeps meeting him for each kiss, melting into the touch of Cam’s fingers against his cheek. 

Cam is hard, has been for a while, and his hips give the slightest twitch now and then, but he doesn’t push for more and Marc seems to be grateful for that. He relaxes more into the kisses once he realizes that Cam isn’t trying to hurry this along. It’s a slow and unhurried make out session, the best kind, the kind that should never have to end. 

Cam sighs and runs his fingers through Marc’s hair, mumbling out, “You taste so good.”

Marc swallows, clearly steadying himself before rocking his hips forward, his voice low as he replies, “You can taste more. It’s okay. I want it.”

Cam nods, feeling a rush at being given that permission, and kisses Marc softly, a slow and silent promise to be good.

They pull away from each other to discard their clothes, fingers fumbling and fabric getting caught momentarily until they manage to wrestle free from the confines. Cam takes a moment to look over Marc’s body once he’s resting back on the bed again; takes in all the scattered freckles over Marc’s shoulders and chest, the juts of Marc’s hipbones, the slight tremor in his thighs, the coarse hair at the base of his cock. He looks so _pretty_ to Cam. It’s making Cam dizzy, or maybe it’s the alcohol. He thinks it’s Marc, though.

He tells Marc so, tells him how gorgeous he is while kissing his thighs, trying to soothe the nervous trembling of muscles there. Marc laughs, the noise self-deprecating, as he tells Cam that he clearly can’t handle his liquor, that he’s obviously too drunk for this.

Cam shakes his head and brushes his lips to the tip of Marc’s cock, “No, you’re gorgeous, babe.”

Marc shudders, and Cam opens his mouth, taking Marc in, slowly and carefully, eyes watching Marc’s expression. Marc gasps, resting up on his elbows, his eyes opening and closing, almost as if he doesn’t know if should shut them to focus on what he’s feeling or keep them open to watch and know this is _real_.

Cam is far from good at this. He knows he still has to work on his technique, still has to learn the right combination of suction and tongue to really make his partner feel as good as possible, but Marc is moaning and shuddering under him like this is the greatest blowjob he’s ever gotten or ever will get. 

The noises fuel Cam’s passion, and he keeps one hand on Marc’s left hip, the other sliding up to rest on Marc’s stomach and feel the shifting of his muscles as they tense and relax with each lick of Cam’s tongue.

Marc’s noises get louder, moans and sighs, and his hands come to rest in Cam’s hair, fingers curling and petting as he whimpers out Cam’s name. His hips rock up too quickly a few times, making Cam gag and pull away to catch his breath, but there’s no need for apologies. They’re learning together, learning how to make this work, and that feels better than anything.

Cam finds a good rhythm, figures out how far he can take Marc’s cock into his mouth, and uses his hand to make up for the difference; stroking and licking, sucking at the tip of Marc’s cock while jerking him nice and slow, the pace of it so sweet.

Marc comes like that; Cam jerking him, slow and steady, while sucking the head of his dick. He whimpers and cries out Cam’s name, fingers pulling at Cam’s hair. Cam moans, swallowing up every drop, and feels dizzyingly gratified as he pulls off and looks at the form of Marc, blissed out and flushed, looking so perfect and pretty.

Cam loves him. He really does.

Marc catches his breath slowly, coming down from the high of his orgasm, and seems to grow more embarrassed as he does. He curls onto his side, bringing his hands up to cover his face. Cam blinks, puzzled and a little worried, and crawls up onto the bed, resting next to Marc and leans in to kiss his hands lightly. 

“Marc?”

Marc makes a soft noise, mumbling an apology out against his palms. It’s muffled, but Cam understands the words. He kisses Marc’s hands again, murmurs that it’s okay, and reaches out a hand to touch Marc’s hair gently.

Marc slowly uncurls himself and once he does, he presses himself against Cam, burying his face against Cam’s neck, mumbling, “Didn’t think I’d actually like it.”

Cam blinks for a moment, not understanding, then says, “A blowjob?”

Marc nods against his neck. Cam softens in understanding, petting Marc’s hair with more of a purpose now, as he says, “Well, now you know.”

Marc exhales cautiously, repeating the sentiment. 

“Now I know.”

They stayed cuddled like that for a moment, Cam petting Marc’s hair while Marc breathes slowly against his neck. Cam nearly forgets that he’s still hard, until Marc, in a newfound rush of courage, slowly moves his hand down to curl around Cam’s cock.

Cam gasps lightly and murmurs, “You don’t have to.”

Marc kisses his neck lightly, and whispers, “I want to. I _know_ I like this. I want you to feel good, too.”

Cam closes his eyes and exhales softly, relaxing, and lets Marc do what he wants. He has no protest against this, especially not if Marc is clear with what he wants. It feels good, having Marc’s hand on his cock. Marc is good at this, even if there’s a slight sense of uncertainty to his touch at the start. His confidence clearly grows as Cam starts to moan softly, Marc’s grip gradually getting tighter with each stroke. He thumbs at the head of Cam’s dick with each upstroke, his lips pressing kisses along Cam’s neck, teeth scraping against skin as he moves lower to mouth at Cam’s collarbone.

Cam’s fingers loosen in Marc’s hair, gently petting him while mumbling, “Fuck, that’s good. Your hand is-- Ah. _Marc_ , s’good.”

Marc’s lips trail back up Cam’s neck, pressing words of love to Cam’s skin, and Cam swears that he can feel Marc’s heart beating, can feel it racing in time with his. He turns his head, seeking Marc’s mouth, moaning low as their lips brush and Marc licks into his mouth, hand stroking his cock a bit faster now, urging him towards the edge.

Cam comes with a high whine, lips parted against Marc’s, spilling over Marc’s fingers and his stomach.  


He catches his breath with his lips still brushing Marc’s, exchanging sweet little kisses now and then. A smile grows on Cam’s face, and it’s quickly matched by one from Marc. Cam kisses Marc again, then nudges him until he moves enough for Cam to grab a tissue from the nightstand, quickly cleaning up his stomach and Marc’s fingers, before tossing the tissue to the floor.

Marc scrunches up his nose at that.

“You’re picking that up in the morning.”

Cam snorts, pulling Marc into his arms, feeling loose and happy.

“It’s my jizz. No shit, I’m picking it up.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna touch it,” Marc says with a grin, tucking himself comfortably into Cam’s arms. Their legs awkwardly knock together until Marc can slide his left leg between Cam’s, settling down as he rests his head on Cam’s chest.

“You literally just had your hand on my dick,” Cam remarks, kissing Marc’s hair, arms circling around him, grip firm and secure.

“Mhm,” Marc mumbles, now sounding more drowsy, “I wanted to touch that for a little while. Now I don’t, ‘kay?”

Cam doesn’t fully get it, but, that doesn’t matter right now. He’s content and relaxed, as is Marc.

“Okay, babe. Whatever you say.”

Marc makes a happy little noise and tilts his head up to kiss Cam’s neck where he exhales a mumble of, “I love you, man.”

Cam’s heart clenches a little, his arms tightening around Marc.

“I love you, too, dude. Always will.”

Marc hums happily, and doesn’t have anything else to say, quickly drifting off to sleep in Cam’s arms.

Cam follows more slowly, his head full of thoughts about how he’s so lucky to have Marc; how life is guaranteed to always be good because he’ll always have Marc with him. And even if tonight never happens again, if Cam never gets to see Marc looking so beautifully flushed on a bed ever again, it’s okay because they’ll always be together. No matter what.

This night is a good memory, no matter what the future brings; a good memory to be locked away in Cam’s mind for rainy days.

\--------

A few years later and Cam has Chris now, while Marc has Hank. But still, sometimes, Cam remembers that night. He remembers the other nights, too. There were only a few, but they were good, and Cam lets the memories occupy his mind on a slow day. He’ll never forget the way Marc tasted that first night, with peaches and the sun on his lips.

But, what Cam remembers most is the promise of forever with Marc. He’s grateful, that even if nothing else lasted, he wasn’t wrong about that. He still has Marc, still has his best friend, still has this love - pure and strong - in his life.

That’s what he cares about most.


End file.
